


All Dust Roads Lead Back To You

by Hey_Diddle_Diddle25



Series: We Are Kings [1]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: And Howard survived the crash, Because Tony's precious and deserves a hug, But He Gets Better, Canonical Character Death, Father-Son Relationship, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, It happens offscreen though, Tony's also a great son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7661686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25/pseuds/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard doesn't understand how he survived the accident that took his wife. He can't fathom what he's ever done to deserve that.</p><p>Tony doesn't care what happened, just that he didn't lose both his parents, though most days it certainly felt like he did.</p><p>Then Tony gets kidnapped and everything changes. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Dust Roads Lead Back To You

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: possible OOCness (apologies) but I wanted some positive relationship between the two of them and this just happened. I don't know, guys. I hope you can enjoy it either way.

Anniversaries were always the worst.

Every day was bad, but anniversaries seemed to twist something sharp and hot through the barely healed wounds that seemed to only heal by bottles and bottles of alcohol. The stronger and more expensive the better, taking away what little self-control he had left.

And for reasons he couldn’t discern, even sober, Tony always found him at his worst with gentle smiles and kind hands as he stepped in before Howard could do something particularly stupid- every single damn time.

Some part of Howard suspects that a small part of him yearned for that, which is how he kept finding himself hunched over a crowded bar drinking whatever he could and talking about dead wives and disappointing sons to anybody that’d listen. He wanted Tony to come, and he wanted Tony to step in when it reached its peak and he knew that Tony always would regardless of how bad Howard got.

Back before the accident and she was still very pregnant Maria had told him that she’d read that some kids from abusive homes felt an obligation towards their parents. It was a dependency that was unhealthy and awful and she had looked so frightened by the thought of that happening to their little Tony.

He’d just smiled down at her as he reassured that that wasn’t going to happen to them as he bent over to plant firm kisses to her stomach. She had still looked apprehensive despite his promises, but it never really came up again- not when Tony did everything to become an independent adult except disown them.

She’d be so disappointed in him now.

He was just too drunk to care.

“So how’d she die man?” the drunken man beside him slurred, grasping the neck of his bottle in a tight fist as he punctuated everything he said with a swing of his arm.

“Car accident,” Howard answered after drowning the last bit in his cup, relishing the burning as it went down before he added unnecessarily, “Left behind a little shit too, always hovering and fretting like I’m not a grown ass man that can’t take care of himself.”

The man fixed him with a pitying stare as he murmured, “Kids are trouble, which is why I never claimed any of mine. They can drown in a ditch somewhere, and I wouldn’t lose a single night of sleep over it. Self-proclaimed little brats that think they’re entitled because they share your genes or something.”

The words triggered something inside of Howard- a strong paternal side he’d thought had died with Maria- but the man continued before he got a chance to interrupt because, no, kids never asked to be conceived into this world and they deserved a father, however crappy they turned out.

“But, hey man, I’ve heard that a good ole fashion whipping could knock your kid into shape and with any luck he won’t wake up the next morning-”

Howard didn’t give him a chance to finish.

He was up faster than should’ve been possible, fists twisting in the guy’s jacket as he slammed his back against the bar counter. The man’s eyes widened to dinner plates as he stared up at Howard’s red and panting face and maybe this was it, this was his chance to redeem himself for Maria.

“Who do you think you are?” Howard demanded and, no, there were no redeeming qualities in that tone or his words.

Before he got a chance to fix that, got a chance to step up for Tony’s sake like he knew he should, a hand caught his wrist and pried him away from the stunned man beneath him. All around them the bar had grown deathly still as everyone watched the scene with dumb expressions and wide eyes.

Howard knew who it was without turning to look at him. He couldn’t explain it, he just instinctively knew.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he snapped as his son threw down more than enough change to cover his drinks before his hand grasped Howard’s elbow and he weaved them out to fresh air and a crisp chill that sobered Howard more then he’d like to admit.

Everything was so much easier when he could just blame the whole thing on alcohol.

He did jerk his arm free, Tony relenting without much of a fight and _no that wasn’t right_. His son was the only family he had left- the only thing in this world that could still make him feel something- and it was all so wrong and _awful_.

“What’re you doing here?” Howard grunted out as he shoved his hands into his pockets and prayed Tony would chalk up the slight quiver in his fingers as to his drunken stupor.

“I’m here to take you home dad,” Tony explained like it was obvious, opening the door to the black Camaro Howard had given him for his sixteenth birthday, before he added with a pinched expression, “and I’m freezing my balls off so hurry up please.”

Howard glared as he folded himself in the neatly kept space. Tony shut his door before jogging over on the other side so they were seated beside one another. Even still Howard refused to look at him, refused to allow his brain to make connections between Tony and Maria because Maria was dead and Tony wasn’t and nothing in the world made sense anymore.

Tony didn’t speak the entire ride, allowing the tense silence to settle between the two of them. At first he would, he’d babble on and on about award ceremonies or the newest advancements he’d made on world technology or his newest girlfriend he’d found, but Howard would always snap back with vicious words before he turned his gaze back out the window so he wouldn’t have to see the hurt flash across Tony’s face and he’d tell himself that it wasn’t his fault. It was the alcohol or the anniversary or the headache his son’s voice would cause.

Now he figured the silence was worst especially considering Tony Stark was neither a silent nor reserved person. He thrived in attention and people and it was because of Howard that he’s managed to convince himself that bad attention was the only type he deserved.

Tony stalled to a stop when they reached Howard’s apartment complex.

After Howard had finally woken from his coma in the hospital, Tony had been adamant about Howard going back to live with him in the large skyscraper of a house. Obadiah had just shook his head with a firm expression and possessive grip against Tony’s shoulder as he sprouted some nonsense of living separate for the good of both Starks.

Tony had seemed incredulous, but Howard had agreed with a narrowed expression on the man he’d once placed the trust of the world in.

Maria was dead.

Tony had been all he had left and for whatever reason Howard had resented that.

“Call me if you need anything,” Tony informed him after leading him up three flights of stairs and depositing him on Howard’s hideous couch, “and try to get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Howard just grunted, rolling over so he could hide his face in the crook of his arm. Tony’s awkward presence lingered a moment longer before steps indicated his exit. Once he was certain he was gone Howard rolled back over, unfolding the picture he kept in his breast pocket at all times.

It was a picture of him, a different man in his youth, and a beautiful Maria at his side where they both knew she had always belonged. She’d made him a better man, a better father despite the knowledge that she had always deserved better.

Yet through his worst she had stayed.

That was one thing he wished Tony hadn’t inherited from her, knowing that it’ll only turn against him in the end. Tony was too much like his mother, though and it hurt every time he looked at him.

“What am I doing Maria?” he asked, thumb stroking her smaller form tenderly.

She didn’t answer, but he had stopped expecting her to a long time ago.

-:-

When the accident had first happened Howard was certain that he had died.

He remembers driving, body tense from the argument he shared with his son moments before, and he remembered Maria’s silent form. Her head was craned to the side, eyes gazing out the window as she pressed her lips in a thin tense line.

She’d always hated when him and Tony departed after a fight.

“This one wasn’t my fault,” he protested to her, hating the silence she could create.

She didn’t look at him, didn’t seem to even have heard him as the silence continued. Howard felt his hands clench tighter around the steering wheel, tendons bleaching his knuckles white.

“It’s Tony. He always seems to have something disrespectful to say and I-”

“You’re his father Howard,” Maria had snapped, head spinning so she could glare brightly back at him and he’d swallowed whatever he had been about to say.

It had been the last thing he remembered.

The next thing he knew he was waking in a hospital with a son who’d told him he’d been unconscious for a little over a year. When Howard had asked about Maria, knowing he needed to make up the whole argument to her, Tony had grown real quiet and withdrawn as Obadiah explained that she hadn’t made it.

That was when Howard knew for a fact that the car crash had killed him.

-:-

The only thing worse than anniversaries were the days after.

He woke up suddenly as he bolted towards his bathroom, barely making it in time before he upchucked everything he’d eaten in the past 12 hours in his toilet. Once he finished he groaned, pressing a cheek against the cool seat as he willed it to calm his churning stomach.

He didn’t move again from there until he heard his door open followed by Tony’s worried, “Dad?”

Another groan escaped his lips as he pressed his forehead against his toilet seat. Tony’s footsteps seemed to echo around him as his son made his way to Howard’s bathroom, and he supposed it was his own fault for not locking the door.

“Hey? You feeling alright?” Tony asked once he found him, reaching out to flush with one hand as the other rested in between his shoulder blades firmly.

“What’re you doing here?” Howard groaned as he turned his head away from his son’s comforting form, hating how much his body relished and needed it.

“I came to check on you,” Tony explained ignoring his obvious discomfort as he hooked his hands on either armpit before he hefted him to his feet and lead him back to his couch, “Happy’s waiting for me outside.”

Howard liked Happy. He liked that, despite everything that’s ever gone wrong in this world, Happy had always had Tony’s back. He also liked that Happy was a better man than Howard ever hoped of being, knowing that he’d rub off on Tony in ways Howard never could.

He also knew that Happy usually didn’t follow Tony here unless Tony had something major.

“Why?” Howard croaked, pulling away from Tony’s hands as soon as he got the chance as he folded himself further in his cushions.

“I’ve got the demonstration with the JERICO,” Tony explained as he pulled out a plastic bag and set it on the table beside Howard’s couch; Howard glared at it like it was to blame for Tony’s constant need to make Howard’s life a living hell.

“Why are you here?” Howard demanded, shifting his glare to his son; Tony didn’t seem to notice, evidently having grown immune to the hard looks his father was capable of giving him.

“I came to check on you,” Tony informed, his tone still gentle and caring as he ruffled through the bag’s contents and pulled out a Sprite and bottle of water and a dark thermos, all the while rattling, “Hangovers are a real bitch, but these should help you through them while I’m gone. I even got that soup you like.”

Howard grunted, unimpressed.

Tony sat at his feet a moment more, awkward and thoughtful as he regarded Howard with shining eyes. He looked like he wanted to say more, but then his phone rang and he clamped it shut. He turned his expression away as he rose to his feet, and Howard had to tip his head back to continue his glaring.

“I’ll call you tonight,” Tony promised and Howard knew he would- knew that regardless of how poorly Howard treated him Tony would always come back to him because the accident had shaken him more than he’d ever admit.

Howard just rolled over, hiding his face in his arm so Tony wouldn’t see the thankful expression that had flitted across his expression. Tony ignored him, making his way back towards the door but not before he stopped.

“I love you dad,” Tony whispered and the void that’s haunted Howard since finding of Maria’s death twisted painfully.

He bolted upright, ignoring the head rush that caused, as he snapped furiously, “I hate you.”

But Tony was already gone.

-:-

Tony never called.

Howard tried to pretend that that didn’t bother him as much as it did.

-:-

When James showed up at his door telling him that Tony had gone missing, Howard Stark had prayed the first time in years.

Two days had passed since Howard had last seen him and being told that Tony was just gone sent something frighteningly painful through him. In many ways it was worse than being told Maria was gone because this was _Tony_.

He remembered grabbing onto James as he demanded in a tone harsher than was necessary, “What happened? Where’d my son go?”

And it was so bizarre- the panic that nearly overcame him with the knowledge that something had gone wrong and the last words he’d ever told his son was that he hated him. He’d been hurting and Tony’s confession had jolted something inside him that _scared_ him.

This was so much worst.

The realization that this could very well be it, he’d never see his son again, _terrified_ him.

James had easily swatted his hands away as he explained in a deceptively calm tone, “There’d been a trap. His Humvee was attacked, and everyone in it had been killed.”

Howard’s chest squeezed painfully tight as he gasped, “ _Everyone_?”

“We couldn’t find Tony,” James explained with an odd look and Howard knew the man was his son’s best friend, and James would burn the world if he thought it’d get Tony back; he also knew that he had never been his biggest fan but had been willing to overlook all of it to make Tony happy.

“So he’s alive,” Howard rephrased because- _please God, I’ll do anything you want just let that be true_.

James shrugged as he glanced away and explained in a softer tone, “There’s a good chance he had been the target, though we don’t know why or where he is and the government doesn’t think he’s worth the sheer amount of money it’ll cost to search for him.”

Howard didn’t really comprehend that whole thing.

He’d heard that the government didn’t think Tony was worth it, and he was surprised by how adamantly his brain declared that that was wrong. Tony was the better man, he deserved to live. Howard hadn’t yet he’d been spared.

There was no way he was going to let Tony die.

“I’ll fund whatever the cost,” Howard declared, latching back onto James’s shoulders as he promised, “I’ll pay whatever it takes just _bring my son home_. Please. I can’t _do_ this without him and Maria.”

James blinked at him in surprise, like he hadn’t been expecting _that_ , before he narrowed his eyes suspiciously and demanded, “What’s the catch? What’re you going to make Tony do if we get him back?”

 _If_.

If they get him back alive.

Howard just shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories of Tony’s gentle hands and quiet patient tones he’d use whenever Howard felt agitated or drunk or so stupid and blind because it was happening again. He was losing everything because he’d been the blind fool who hadn’t seen what he had before it left his grasp.

_I love you dad._

_I_ hate _you._

“Mr. Stark?” James pensive voice asked worriedly, hands latching onto him as if to offer him some sort of support but Howard just shook his head as he shrugged off the hands.

It had reminded him too much of Tony, of all the times he’d push his son away because he’d been scared of the way Tony was still capable of making him feel. Of how he’d been the only one capable of making Howard feel something other than the twisted numbness he’s carried since being informed that he’d outlived Maria.

Now he might outlive Tony, and that was so terrible and wrong his brain just seemed to short-circuit as it refused to accept that as truth. Tony wasn’t going to die. Howard wasn’t going to let him, knowing that if Tony had truly been taken then his son was going to fight until he was free.

“Find him,” Howard gasped out, “Find him and bring him home. I’ll give you whatever you need just, _bring him home_.”

James stared back at him for a long moment before he pressed his lips together in a thin line and he nodded. He understood. Howard knew he would. Tony had that effect on people.

“Okay,” James agreed when he rose to his feet, “but I need you to promise to be here when he comes back. The year you spent in the hospital had been hard on him, and I don’t want to be the one to tell him that he’d lost his father after this.”

Howard nodded, watching as James shut his door behind him.

Then Howard collapsed by his couch, bowed his head and prayed to whoever would listen to bring his son home safely because he couldn’t do this a second time. He couldn’t lose the last thing Maria had given him because he’d been a drunken fool.

He tried not to think too hard on the fact that this was the first time he’s felt like the man before the accident. That, somehow, Tony was bringing him back to life.

-:-

They found Tony wandering around the desert- weak and bloody and dehydrated- yet instead of going to the hospital, his stubborn son called a press conference. Howard didn’t go, but he sat on his couch with a bottle of Coke as he watched his son stand in front of all those people and declare that Stark Industries were no longer manufacturing weapons.

The world had freaked out, of course, and Howard didn’t miss the way Obadiah approached his son, all tense and angry, as he forced a smile and whispered tight promises to the man he held firmly in his grasp. Tony didn’t seem fazed, was probably too tired to care as he waved off the million questions reporters were hurling at him now.

Howard just sat there, eyes soaking in the sight of Tony whole and alive doing what he wanted with the company for the first time since Howard’s woken up, and all he could think was that he couldn’t be prouder.

-:-

Obadiah seemed to take over Stark Industries, Tony Stark suddenly disappearing off the map as the man Howard had once trusted with his life tried to twist everything Tony had said back into the company Howard knew he’d made.

Howard didn’t like that, but Obadiah had cut him off from everything: the company, the shares, his own damn son. It was the last one that had really irked him because he couldn’t remember giving the other man such control over Tony, yet no matter how hard he tried Howard couldn’t get a hold of him.

Obadiah was a completely different story.

Howard found him leaving another press conference, where he promised that soon enough Stark Industries would go right back to building missiles and guns and anything else the world could desire. No one had bothered keeping Howard back, not when the world didn’t know he no longer had any control over his own company. Obadiah never even knew what hit him.

“Who do you think you are?” Howard demanded, spiting hate and anger at the other male as the men Obadiah had brought as bodyguards jerked him back.

Obadiah messaged his jaw, the beginning stages of a bruise already blooming. Howard remained glaring, eyes narrowed and furious in ways he’d never be able to put into words.

This was the man that cut him off from his son, and though there were plenty of nights where Howard wished Tony would leave him alone he never wanted the choice to be taken from him. Somewhere deep down he’d always suspected that the fatherly protectiveness ingrained in him since Tony’s birth hadn’t died with his wife.

Now he was certain of it.

“Howard,” Obadiah just greeted with a false civility that no longer belonged on that face, and it made Howard wonder how he’d been fooled all those years he’d left the care of his son in this man.

“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” Howard growled as he pulled himself as far in the hands as he could, “I’m his _father_. You have no right cutting me off from him.”

“Last I checked _Howard_ ,” Obadiah spat venomously, “I have the power to do whatever I feel is right for this company, and ever since you’ve woken up you’ve been no father to Tony. Therefore I have _every_ right to cut you two off.”

Howard continued to glare, wishing looks were enough to kill someone. Then Obadiah would’ve been dead and there’d be nothing Howard would need to worry about. He’d reconcile with Tony and never let anything bad happen to him ever again.

A ridiculous notion but he was still running on the panic he’d received when James suddenly showed up at his door to tell him his son was gone, missing, and he’s yet been able to make everything he’s ever done since waking up in the hospital back up to Tony.

And he was going to make it up to him. It was going to take more than Obadiah Stane to stop him from that.

But then Obadiah’s expression smothered into a victorious expression as he replied calmly, “Go home Howard. You’re making a scene.”

The hands released him, and the next punch was broadcasted on every news channel for the next few weeks. Howard couldn’t bring himself to care, knowing that Obadiah had had it coming, but he still felt a twinge of relief when the news changed their focus to the mysterious Iron Man two weeks later.

-:-

“Tony, I know you’ve been busy lately and I don’t really blame you for not answering any of my phone calls, but I’d like to apologize. I’m sorry son, for being a horrible father to you. I just- I need you to call me back. _Please_.”

-:-

Tony appeared at his doorway the next day, looking tired and worn and a million years too old. Howard had never been so happy to see another person in his whole life.

“Hey dad,” Tony greeted pulling at the sleeves of his grey shirt, looking off put and incredibly awkward as dark eyes regarded him like he was afraid of what Howard would say.

Howard didn’t think.

He reached forward and pulled his son into a tight hug, relishing in the warm heartbeat fluttering under his fingertips. He’d never been much of a hugging type- not even when Tony was younger and would come home with bruises and cuts that hadn’t been there when he left.

Tony tensed, standing in his hold for a long moment before he returned to hug. Several moments later he was patting Howard on the back as his voice grew real confused and worried.

“Uh. Dad. Is something wrong?” Tony asked and Howard finally pulled away, grasping his son’s shoulders in his hands pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn’t as bony as he’d imagine he’d be.

“I’m fine kid,” Howard reassured before gesturing for Tony to come inside, locking the door behind him as he continued, “I… um… I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Tony tensed again before he turned to regard him with a strange look. His dark eyes seemed guarded and cautious, and Howard knew it was because for the first time in his life his father was being gentle and nice to him. All it took was a kidnapping and a betrayal that dug somewhere inside his soul.

“Me too,” Tony agreed before he asked, “Did something happen? You’re not dying are you because I really don’t think I could handle that right now….”

“I’m not dying Tony,” Howard reassured with a placating hand against his shoulder, “I’ve just missed you, and I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.”

Tony’s mouth quirked up into a smirk as recognition filtered across his expression as he asked, “You mean like a complete child? Let me tell you, I hope I was never that bad.

Howard matched Tony’s smile as he regarded him with fond eyes, and it was the first time since the accident he could remember where he finally felt at peace with the world.

-:-

Three days later Tony showed him his arc reactor.

Howard had remembered staring at it, touching it in shock as he realized it had been the thing that kept his son alive when the world had let him down the most. Tony babbled about the semantics and the various ways he’s given it upgrades and the ways he’s thinking he could further improve it; never mind that Howard’s been trying to make one since he was a teenager and Tony had done it in a cave from scraps.

“And it’s keeping you alive?” Howard asked once Tony’s babbling started to turn nervous and tight as he curled further in himself like he was suddenly afraid of what Howard was thinking.

“Yeah. That’s the idea,” Tony agreed already buttoning up his shirt as he declared, “This was a mistake. I just thought- I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

Howard caught Tony’s wrist as he replied firmly, “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met before, and I’m proud to call you my son.”

Tony actually blushed, which was adorable even as he ducked his head embarrassedly.

“You’ve turned into a real sap these days, you know that?” Tony demanded as he shifted so obviously uncomfortable.

Howard just smirked back as he replied proudly, “I’ve heard that having a kid will do that to a person.”

This time when Tony smiled it was bright enough to light up all of New York.

-:-

Then everything crashed around him because, apparently, the universe was against Howard Stark being happy. Or Obadiah Stane was against him and his son living together, happy and content for the first time since Howard heard of Steve’s plane going down.

It had been several days since Tony showed him the arc reactor stuck in his chest when Howard was suddenly woken up by a loud knocking at his door. He groaned, rolling over as he complemented leaving them be.

It might be Tony, though, and that was all the incentive he needed as he rolled to his feet and answered the door. Obadiah Stane stared back at him, face tight and angry.

“May I help you?” Howard asked, not bothering to pretend civility as he leaned against his door and glared at the man before him.

The day Tony had told him about the arc reactor Howard had called Pepper and asked if there was a way to get his shares of the company back. She had sounded excited when she promised to look into it, knowing that if he did it would all but eliminate Obadiah’s control of the company.

“Don’t mess with me Howard,” Obadiah snapped shoving his way into his apartment with him and Howard turned an unimpressed look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know of what you’re referring to,” Howard apologized coyly, taking in the yellowing bruise on the man’s chin satisfactorily.

Obadiah’s expression soured considerably as he narrowed his eyes and replied, “Modesty doesn’t suit you. I’m going to have to ask you to back off from me and my control over Stark Industries.”

“I would if you’d stop trying to take over it,” Howard shrugged moving over to his kitchen as he asked, “Would you like something to drink. I have plenty of water but I-”

Ringing filled his head, making his muscles lock as his entire body went limp. He was still conscious, though, which was bizarre.

Obadiah’s hands grabbed his shoulders as he guided him so his back leaned against his cabinets. Cold freezer air swirled around him, chilling his skin as spotted goosebumps danced across his legs. He couldn’t do anything about it, not when all his muscles had stopped working.

“Howard, Howard, Howard,” Obadiah tutted as he knelt down in front of him, caging him in with his frame as he played with a flash drive looking device in his hands, “You shouldn’t have gotten involved. The only reason I’d let you live was because I thought your normal aloofness would’ve been enough to tear you two apart.”

Howard couldn’t say anything- his mouth no longer working- so he just wrinkled his face in a tight glare. Obadiah didn’t seem concerned, didn’t really have a reason to considering Howard could no longer move.

“You know that saying,” Obadiah continued, “you can’t keep a good man down? Whoever said that must’ve had you Stark men in mind considering both of you have survived to be an obnoxious thorn in my side.”

The words meant something, but Howard’s brain was swirling in a way that the words dissolved before he could make sense of them.

“It is a shame, though, what happened to Tony. I mean, if he had just cooperated with me then I wouldn’t have to kill him,” Obadiah sighed as he straightened up and everything inside of Howard jerked before snapping back at him, “I’d much rather have kept my hands clean of this whole affair but, alas, in a few hours it won’t even matter. No one will remember the name _Tony Stark_.”

Howard willed his body forward, but it remained uncooperative. Only his eyes worked, trailing upwards to where Obadiah was smirking down at him.

“But first I think I owe you something,” Obadiah informed him and Howard wished he could speak so he could tell him off, promise everything he’d do to him if he hurt his son.

He didn’t get a chance to do any of that, though.

Not when a foot connected with the side of his face, darkness soon following.

-:-

Howard was unconscious when Pepper blew up Obadiah, but he heard about it later when he found himself at the side of Tony’s hospital bed. She also took the time to shove several papers under his face, demanding his signature and then, like magic, he had the same control Obadiah had.

He resolved to buy her something nice whenever Tony woke up, knowing Tony had picked a real winner with her.

-:-

Tony Stark, his son, is Iron Man.

Howard wasn’t even surprised, some part of him always knowing that his son had always been destined for greatness.


End file.
